Minnesota has always felt like a living thing to me, and so has the sky above it. The way a lake goes still before a storm. The Milky Way sprawling across a clear night far from city lights. Constellations mapping centuries of human wonder overhead. I've spent years paying attention to these things, and that attention finds its way into everything I make.

I work with alcohol, watercolor, and acrylic inks alongside paint and gold leaf on paper, canvas, and ceramics. Air is my most essential tool. I use breath and movement to guide pigment across the surface, watching what the ink wants to do when given the chance. The most interesting moments in a piece are almost always the ones I didn't plan.

Gold leaf and brass ink enters the work the way light enters a night sky, catching where you don't anticipate it. A vein of gold across deep blue reads like sunlight on open water, or a star resolving as your eyes adjust to the dark.

The abstraction is deliberate. I'm not painting a lake or a constellation. I'm after the sense of standing at the edge of one, or lying in the grass watching the sky deepen above you.